


The Pied Piper

by EatingFeathers



Series: Tales of the Pied Piper [1]
Category: The Dresden Files (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Ass Play, Couch Sex, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, no y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EatingFeathers/pseuds/EatingFeathers
Summary: Chicago's a great place and all, but between the muggings, the gunshot wounds, and the heroic and very sexy vampires, nobody gets a good night's sleep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% BirdOfHermes' fault, and she knows it.  
Takes place somewhere between Blood Rites and Death Masks, but that's only relevant insofar as Thomas is living with Harry.

Chicago's a scary place, but there are hotbeds of kindness and goodness if you know where to look. Most of them are surrounded by the worst the city has to offer; same as anywhere, really. Unfortunately, my little two-bedroom apartment was one of those ‘surrounded by the worst’ places. 

And for the third time this month, I was being held at gunpoint for whatever was in my wallet.

Not that I was scared; I was a damn good hedgewitch and my greatest trick was stopping bullets in their tracks. It was still irritating to have a gun poking my back and another under my jaw. “Boys, if you want anything that bad, it’ll be cheaper down the street with the corner girls. I hear Sapphire’s real good at what she does.”

“Money and keys. I know you got a car, I been watching you.” His accent was familiar; dammit, I knew this kid. 

“Ben, you moron, it’s me. I know you know me, I stitched you up last month. And this is the thanks I get?”

The rent-a-thug in front of me shrugged. “Boss says you’re late.” The gun in my back, that probably was in the hand of Ben’s equally stupid brother, Mark, poked harder to make a point.

“Boss can kiss my tailfeathers. I don’t work for him, and I don’t give in to just any rent-a-thug Mikey hires to shake down the locals. Especially not thugs who know well enough not to pick a fight with me, and for some reason try it anyway.”

Mark grunted. “Think you’re special?”

“Know I’m special.” I moved, quicker than their drug-addled brains could follow, but it didn’t seem to matter because suddenly all three of us were on the ground. I hadn’t heard the dog approach, but it was standing over me and drooling as it growled. There was a lot of fur, and a voice that sounded like the male version of wind chimes. “Place your weapons on the ground and leave.” 

I pushed at the dog, but it didn’t move off of me. “Dog, please get off, you’re standing on my spleen.” I looked around me for the voice. Holy heck.

Holy mother of heck.

Holy grandmother of heck.

Adonis, if Adonis had been sable-haired instead of blonde, stood there in the entrance to the alleyway. I’d never seen a more obnoxiously pretty man; I’d never seen any man look that casually attractive and somehow still masculine, either. His nose and neck both went on for miles, and his hair looked softer than mine. His voice was entrancing, and now that I’d seen his face, I knew I’d never look at another man. This guy could eat crackers in my bed. 

He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, but on him, they looked as good as a four-figure suit.

Adonis glanced down at me with mild interest, then looked back at Tweedledee and Tweedledum. “I said,” again sounding like the Pied Piper’s music, “guns on the ground, and leave.”

Mark (I think it was Mark, anyway) fired one shot at him, hitting his shoulder. He then insulted Adonis’ parentage and...package quality.

Adonis’ response was to hold his shoulder and look mildly inconvenienced. “That was rude.” 

I was quick; I was a hedgewitch and I knew a thing or two about the supernatural. It wasn’t, though, until Adonis flashed down the alley and grabbed the two morons in a blur of pale skin that I realized why the bullet wound hadn’t phased him. 

The son of a bitch was a vampire. Probably White Court, which was better for me in the long run, I supposed. 

The dog moved away from me after Adonis blurred into the next alley. I sat up as I heard the sound of two bodies being tossed into the dumpster behind a bakery. I knew that dumpster, and felt very sorry for them. If they woke up, ever, there was no way they were getting that smell out.

Adonis didn’t move as quickly back into the alley as he’d left it. Blood was seeping through his shirt and fingers, and he pulled his bloody hand away long enough to offer it to me. I raised my eyebrows at it, and he shrugged with his uninjured shoulder before putting it back. I used the giant dog as leverage to stand up, and it sat there panting at me with a doggy smile. 

“Thomas,” he said by way of introduction. “Thomas Raith.” 

I sat back down, hard. I gave him my name, shakily. “I know of your family, and that explains a lot. It doesn’t explain why you helped me, though.” I eyed him warily. 

“My family and I don’t get along so well anymore. Besides, if I tried anything funny now, the dog would kill me. He belongs to Harry Dresden.” The mass of fur made an entirely incongruous yip in agreement. “How do you know my family? Are you a wizard?"

"Witch. I don't have nearly enough power for the Council to care that I exist. I keep my head down." I pulled on the dog's fur to get upright again. "You should let me look at your shoulder. I know it won't kill you, but it can still get ugly."

He narrowed his eyes at me. His beautiful eyes, that were honestly too distracting. My train of thought derailed in a fantastic display of crash-related pyrotechnics. "Why do you care about me? I’m a vampire. Evil vampire, remember?" He made a sarcastic threatening motion with his hands while fake-snarling at me.

I blinked at him for a moment while my thoughts salvaged a bit of coherency from the wreckage. "Evil vampire running around with perennial good guy Harry Dresden's dog? Saving damsels in distress from bad guys with guns? Yeah, I'm quivering in my stylish boots." I looked down and realized I had alley muck on my pants. 

They were halfway off my ass before I realized what I was doing. I looked at him with shock and embarrassment on my face, unable to move out of my half-crouch. His expression was similar, and I could tell he was working very hard to keep his eyes on my face.

Part of me wanted to keep going. Sure, he was a theoretically immortal succubus who would probably sooner suck me dry than pay my dry cleaning bill...but was that really the worst thing? He was hot, and I was guaranteed to enjoy my last hour on earth.

On the other hand, then I would be dead. If I was dead, Mikey would have no trouble cleaning up the last of the local resistance to his mob rule. And damn if I was about to let bastards like Ben and Mikey get my neighborhood.

On the other other hand, if he was working with the friendly neighborhood Wizard-Man, he would probably fuck my brains out and then  _ not _ kill me--best of both worlds. 

Now, this plan, I liked very much.

He saw the change in my eyes and moved too quick for me to stop him, grabbing my wrist before I could pull my pants the rest of the way down. "I'm flattered, truly," he said. It managed to be both bone-dry and still enchanting. "But maybe not here. Let's go back to my place, and we can talk about dressing and undressing.

That also sounded good. I belatedly remembered that I was not an exhibitionist. Sex in this alley was probably a bad idea. Keep that thought, I said to myself. Good ideas and bad ideas. Gotta keep them straight. I pulled my pants back up with a frown.

He pulled a whistle out of his pocket and blew on it, but I didn't hear anything. The small bear Thomas had the audacity to call a dog whined, and I realized it was a dog whistle. It didn't make sense, but then, neither did the fact that we weren't already fu--oh yeah, alleyway, publix sex. Right. Good ideas and bad ideas.

It took close to 30 seconds for something to happen, which is a very long time when you have your last two brain cells arguing over whether public decency laws were, in fact, important or not.

Spoiler alert, 'not' was winning.

Thomas heard a car coming down one of the other alleys and started to move, then groaned. 

"Oh, bones and banana boats, Thomas, let me look at that shoulder."

My choice of curses confused him (it was a long story) but he slowly pulled his hand away from the wound. "I've had worse. It's nothing, really."

"You're too pretty to be this stupid. Shoulder wounds are a big deal." I pulled a small box out of the bag I somehow hadn't misplaced in the shuffle. Out came a pair of tweezers and gauze covered in hand-sewn sigils. 

"I've had my neck snapped by my own father. I might just be that stupid." 

I didn't let that distract me. Good ideas and bad ideas, I reminded myself as a pickup truck rolled by and came to a stop. "I can stop the bleeding, but not for long. You need proper treatment, and this is just a triage kit. Let me guess, your friend here isn't taking us to the hospital."

The newcomer, not more than 17, barked a laugh. "Ain't never been, and God willin', ain't never gonna go. Tommy, you look like shit."

"I've been shot, Will. Of course I look like shit." Their barbs went over my head as I looked around in the wound for the bullet. Kinda hard in the dark, but I did manage it. 

With a triumphant noise that was promptly overshadowed by a death threat from the vampire, I removed the bullet and tossed it in the kit. "Shut up, Spike, you big baby."

With a very,  _ very _ exaggerated accent, he said, "But Buffy, it  _ hurts _ ."

I wrapped his shoulder in my gauze. "The sigils will keep you from bleeding out before I can get it sutured shut. I don't have many tricks, but I'm really good at the three things I can do."

The emergency over, I realized that I was standing no more than a couple inches from him. I looked up at his glorious, beautiful face, and my mouth fell open with a soft noise. "T...Thomas…" I whispered, staring into his very odd but very enthralling eyes.

He blinked once, then put his good hand on my shoulder. "Car. Please. Before I forget my manners."

Yes. Car. Good ideas. I spun and slid into the middle of the truck's seat.

Thomas closed my box (my box!) and tossed it at Will before going around the truck to get in on my other side. The dog jumped into the back of the truck with a 'whuff!' and Will got in the driver's seat. 

"Harry's place?" Will asked, handing me the things I'd nearly forgotten in my lustful fog.

"Yeah. Quick. They were talking about a Mikey, and I don't want him finding out about the truck. Plus, somebody probably called in the gunshot."

Will pulled out of the alley and into Chicago traffic. I tried to follow the route, but all I could think about was how good Thomas smelled. He kept his face toward the front window, but with my eyes glued to his face, I could see him glance at me occasionally. 

I liked that very much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being held at gunpoint was fun, but not nearly as much fun as desecrating Harry's living room with unholy acts.

Harry Dresden's house was a bit...less, than I was expecting. The stories, and the one time I'd met him myself, had lent him a sort of superhero aura that was at odds with the dingy boarding house and basement stairs. 

I followed Thomas like a wisp attached to his shadow. He banged on the door as Will drove away. "Harry? Harry, I'm home and, uh, I brought a friend."

The curse could be clearly heard from inside, then the sound of at least ten locks. Paranoid much? I felt the wards power down--wards whose absence was more notable to me than their presence, for some reason--and the door opened to reveal Chicago's only advertised professional wizard.

"Thomas, I told you--why is your shoulder wrapped in bloody gauze?" He immediately moved back and away from the door. "Come in, both of you. Were you followed?"

"No. Not that I could tell, anyway. Will dropped us off. And...I'm bleeding because her attackers shot me." He used his good arm to force me forward into Harry's view.

Harry looked like he'd had a bad day, and I was just one more inconvenience. "Damsel in distress again?"

"Hey," I protested. "I was doing fine before he showed up."

Thomas tapped the back of my head. "Earth to damsel, you had two guns pointed at you. Last I checked, you're still human."

"I'm functionally bulletproof. Obviously, Adonis, you are not," I said, spinning around. I forgot the rest of what I was about to say, because Thomas was  _ right fucking there _ . My eyes went wide, and I wavered a little.

He reached out with both hands, wincing as he moved his wounded shoulder, to hold me up. "Adonis?" he asked quietly, flicking a look I didn't catch over my shoulder at Harry. When his eyes met mine again, there was some humor and mischief in them.

"Because...you're beautiful...and way distracting…and you have perfect hair, and your eyes are amazing…" 

The sound of Harry fake gagging reminded me that I still had an audience.

"Gee, Thomas, you're so pretty. You're the prettiest incubus ever to incubus. There's never been a mortal form to rival your immortal, well-formed body. Stars and stones, dude, don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Harry," Thomas said softly without letting go of me, "have you ever considered not saying the first bloody thing to come to your mind?"

"Once. Decided against it, though."

"Let me try that again." Thomas's voice got colder. "Harry, fuck off."

"You can't just--"

I interrupted him with my last remaining brain cell that wasn't devoted to admiring Thomas. "Can, will, want to. I know what he is, I just don't care." I couldn't look away from Thomas's eyes, and I wasn't sure if it was his aura or if they were really just that great.

Thomas flicked another look over my head again. "Harry, please. Remember our talk? On the beach?"

The next thing that broke through my rapidly dwindling faculties was the sound of the front door slamming shut and the almost negative presence the wards had left in their absence disappearing. Not that it was the next thing to happen, mind you, just the next thing I remember that wasn't Thomas' 'fuck me hard' aura.

God, he was so attractive. 

"Shoulder." 

"What?" I asked, somewhat dazed.

"You need to sew my shoulder shut, unless there's something you'd like to tell me about what gets you off."

Huh? Oh. OH. "No, uh, no. Definitely not." I rattled off a few things I'd need, then tried to reanimated enough brain cells to focus on the task. I cleared off a space on the coffee table to put things on, then went to wash my hands.

In retrospect, a bad idea, because Thomas was in the kitchen with his shirt off, and it was not a large kitchen. I physically could not stop myself from putting my hands on that beautiful, unmarred expanse of muscle on his back. His skin wasn't warm, and it wasn't cold; his muscles weren't hard, and they weren't soft. In short, they were perfect.

He turned under my hand, and his perfectly chiseled chest came to rest beneath my fingers. Lord have mercy. 

"Shoulder," he reminded me, gently pulling my fingers away from him. 

Good ideas and bad ideas. Right. "Shoulder," I affirmed. I moved past him with more emotional difficulty than physical, and washed my hands as he left the room.

When I got back to the living room, he was stretched out like my own little Greek statue, pale and well-formed. His fingers were steepled on his stomach, and I counted six carefully sculpted abs. His pants were low, almost  _ too _ low to keep my mind on the task at hand. Good ideas and bad ideas, girl. Focus.

His eyes were closed when I approached, but he turned his head and opened them as I knelt down beside him. "Hey."

"Wound looks pretty good," I said, voice shaky from desire. "It didn't rip out the other side, or nick anything you're going to regret in a few days. I'm not sure how fast you guys heal, but it will heal." I grabbed the suture Thomas had collected for me and started to sew the wound closed. It didn't take long; most of Mikey's rent-a-thugs used small caliber pistols that made small holes. 

"I just need to...you know, rest a bit, get something to eat, I'll be fine." He kept his eyes on me as I worked, and I started to sweat.

"Yeah...eat something...you're probably pretty, uh, hungry. What's on the menu?" I didn't take my hands away from my work to slap myself on the back of my head, but it was a near thing. God, gorgeous men made me stupid.

He winked lazily at me. "I have a few ideas." 

“Ideas is...is good, ideas is good. Are good.” I corrected myself automatically, but I didn’t have any spare thoughts after that. I carefully used a lighter to sterilize the needle again before putting it back in the kit, then closed it just as slowly. He chuckled at me. Was I that silly-sounding? Yeah, probably.

Now that his wound was stitched, I had nothing to distract me from what I’d been wanting to do since the moment he’d arrived in the alley. I watched him shift to lay on his side, careful not to put too much weight on his bad shoulder. “So. You still want to do this? You know what I am, you know what I do.”

“Worst thing you can do is kill me. And I’m pretty sure you won’t do that,” I said. “Dresden’s pretty well known as a good guy--he wouldn’t let you live here if you went around killing people.”

His eyes clouded over for just a moment as he said, “I can do worse than kill you, trust me.” It cleared as suddenly as it had come, and the sadness was replaced by a desirous look. “Don’t worry, though; I’ll make sure you die a little death, anyway.” 

I could hear the ghost of Harry Dresden retching in the background as my cheeks flamed. I didn’t have a response to that, but I didn’t seem to need one. 

Thomas reached his good arm out and put his hand on the back of my neck, drawing me towards the couch. Closer and closer we came, until his lips touched mine softly. I'd expected a certain amount of...well, domination, but this wasn't that at all. It was a tasting, a brushing of lips and a mingling of breaths that left me needing more.

At this point, I couldn't tell what was my body reacting to a gorgeous male specimen and what was his magic dick aura, but I didn't think I cared anymore. Eventually, the distinction just isn't important.

He ran his tongue across my bottom lip, and my mouth opened with a tiny noise. It slipped in and tasted every part of my mouth, and I tried to meet his intensity with my own, but he had years of experience on me. 

What? Bulletproof hedgewitchery was good for survival, but it was hard to find a good man in gang-ruled urban Chicago. I didn't have a spell for that.

He pressed against me more, leaning into me and gripping my neck harder. His other hand somehow found the tips of my breasts, and dear god I think I moaned a little.

He made a very nice noise, somewhere between a growl and a sound of appreciation, and abruptly changed our situation. Without any warning at all, he wrapped his arms around me and  _ pulled _ me onto his lap. My hand came down perilously close to his sutures, and I managed to slide my hand off his shoulder and onto the couch below him just in time.

And then I realized that he'd set me square on his pelvis. I jerked against it reflexively, and he responded by thrusting up against my center. Oh wow. Holy heck. I couldn't bring myself to do anything but continue shifting against his jeans with a needy whine.

He put his hands on my hips to guide my inexpert motions, and I settled into a somewhat jerky but consistent rhythm. I took a moment to be very glad I was in yoga pants today and not a more substantial fabric. 

Thomas looked up at me with lust-filled eyes. "You look so good up there, sweetheart, riding me like that." I shivered. "God, you feel good, too. Can't wait to feel you around me."

I closed my eyes. Dirty talk was any smart girl's weakness. Of course he knew how to play me like a fiddle, he was a Raith.

"Only problem with this...gotta stop doing it to strip," I muttered as I continued to move against the hard ridge in his jeans. I knew he could hear me. Damn vampire bastard. 

"That," he said with a smile that gave me head-to-toe butterflies, "depends entirely on how much you like those pants."

The decision was easy, and not entirely the result of his power. "Not that much."

“Good answer.” He started with the front of my pants and ripped them open easily. “Cute panties. It’s a shame we’re both too eager for this, or I’d pull them off with my teeth. Maybe next time.”

I shuddered in something that was almost pleasure. “Sounds great.” He motioned for me to lift off of him long enough to finish ripping my pants in half, then pushed both parts of the ruined clothes down my legs. I unbuckled his jeans and WOW, he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He shoved his own jeans down a little farther. “Ride me again, sweetheart. I want to feel your heat on me.”

“Well, since you asked nicely.” I wasn’t sure how I was managing to quip back at him through the lusty fog in my brain, but here we were. I settled back down with his cock between my legs, and rocked against it. It brushed ever so wonderfully against the bundle of nerves there. I couldn’t help but make an appreciative noise that he echoed without hesitation. 

“So warm...so hot. You feel so good up there.” He guided my hips again to a steady rhythm. “Last chance to say no.” 

“You haven’t given me a good enough reason yet to deny myself your magic dick, Thomas, why would I want to say no?”

He snorted, and it was somehow still very sexy. “Magic dick. Alright, then.” He bucked his hips once, and when I came down, he managed to spear me on it. 

I cried out once, overcome. It was heaven. It was perfect. I just sat there for a moment, lost in the sensation of being filled so...perfectly. He pushed down on my hips before I’d recovered, and the increased depth had me gasping. I couldn’t maintain my uprightness any longer and fell forward again. I lay on his chest and just appreciated the feeling of laying there. He wrapped one arm around me and buried his nose in my hair. He hummed in appreciation as he palmed my ass. “I can’t wait to see this from behind. Don’t think we’re going to be done so soon,” he whispered. “I have many plans for you.” I shivered, and the fluttering of my walls made him moan. “Hmmm, my dear, so tight down there.” He ran a hand down my spine and I arched against him.

“Thomas...you talk too much...less talking, more fucking…” I muttered into his neck. He laughed at me, jutting into my center with a very nice pressure. 

“As the lady wishes.” He flipped us over (on the couch, I have no idea how he managed it) and put his hands on either side of my head. “You want more fucking, I’m obligated to provide it. You know, with my magic dick, and all.” He pulled one of my legs higher up on his hip, then slid his hand into my shirt to grasp my breast. And then after that, he started moving so slowly and carefully that it damn near killed me on its own.

I was dimly aware that he was speeding up, but it didn’t really register until he was pounding me into the couch like he wanted me to become a part of it. Over and over he slammed into me, and it was all I could do to remember to breathe. He whispered my name as he reached for my clit, and as he pressed his long fingers to the sensitive nerves and began to rub there, I felt myself fall into a pit of pleasure so deep I couldn’t see the sun. 

What a way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for starting this journey with me to make ThomasxOFC a real tag. The third chapter will be ready soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is, as you are about to find out, not a one-pump chump.

Except I didn’t actually die, fortunately. I’d hate to have missed the opportunity for a round 2. I opened my eyes to see Harry’s living room had been turned on its side. No, wait, that was my only remaining brain cell talking.  _ I _ was on my side, with a large, solid something behind me and..ooh, I was pretty sure that was Thomas’s cock rubbing against my ass. That felt good. Really good.

“Took you long enough,” that voice like honey said. “I was starting to wonder if I’d taken too much. You had me worried.” He rubbed my stomach and put his large, long-fingered hand on my breasts, teasing them. 

“I’m not that easy to kill. I’ve made a living at it,” I said, trying for levity. “You know, it’s super distracting to have your dick there. How’s a girl supposed to string two thoughts together in a row if you’re threatening to stick that in...uh, places?”

He trailed his hand down my hip and over my ass to tease those places. “I wasn’t aware the goal was to think. Most people in our...position,” he pressed a finger against my asshole, “are actually trying to avoid thinking too much.” 

“Most...uh, most...yeah.” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “Thomas, don’t tease me, it’s not...nice…” I gulped as he pushed his finger a little harder. 

“Alright, I won’t tease you.” There was a laugh in his voice. “I wouldn’t want to be mean.” He shifted behind me, pulling his finger away from my asshole. “Tell me what you want from me,” Thomas whispered in my ear. “Tell me how you want to be taken--I’ll make your dreams come true.” I shivered in his arms, and he chuckled softly. “Tell me all your fantasies. Nothing’s impossible for a Raith.” His hands ranged over my upper body, never letting me get used to any one sensation.

Bones and banana boats, though, the bastard had flipped it on me. “I...I want…” I paused. I hadn’t really thought about it before now--the lust fog from his powers would have made me agree to nearly anything, and I wasn’t active enough on my own time to have strong preferences. I narrowed my eyes at the clock on the mantel. “Can’t you just tell? Isn’t that one of the things you can do?”

“Sure,” he said as he put his lips to my neck. “But that’s a lot less fun than making you tell me. If I wanted them easy, I’d go see Sapphire and the corner girls.” He found a spot just under my ear, and I wiggled against him in pleasure. He hummed and put a hand against my lower stomach, pulling me towards him as he rutted against my ass again. 

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. “That...that feels good...real good…” 

“So you like having your ass touched, and your asshole. That’s a good starting point. What about this?” He trailed off slowly as he slid one impossibly long finger into my ladybox. 

“I think, aah, I think we established I like it when you put yourself in there. Covered that pretty well with the ‘briefly unconscious’.” It was everything I could do to keep my sentences constructed properly, what with his cock threatening to slide into my ass every other stroke. It felt slicker than before, like he'd grabbed some kind of lubricant during my brief stay at Cloud Nine. 

I could think of worse things to happen, honestly. I didn’t exactly have experience in it, but he had a magic dick and knew how to use it. “T...Thomas?”

His ruts slowed, and came to a stop with the tip just at my asshole. “Yes, sweet?”

I couldn’t form the words. I just pushed against him meaningfully. “Please…”

“As you wish.” It pushed past the tight ring of muscle and stretched my ass as far as I thought it would go. I expected it to hurt, on account of the ‘going in dry’ business, but apparently he’d managed to coat it in enough of my juices (or lube that I hadn't noticed) that it didn't hurt at all. In fact, it felt absolutely blissful. 

I must have made some terrible noise, because he chuckled, and I could feel the reverberation through his cock. "Like you were made for me," he whispered in my ear. "Like you were born to be speared on this cock. You fit so well on me, in front of me, beneath me.” He moved a little, thrusting in and out just enough to make me feel the movement. “I knew when I saw you that I wanted you. Spirited little thing, my damsel in distress.” 

I sighed, and he started to take longer strokes until he was nearly pulling all the way out before pushing back in. I tried to maintain some sense of composure, but ‘composure’ and ‘having your ass plowed by a magic dick’ are apparently exclusive concepts. 

He seemed to take unholy joy in the mangled sounds coming from my throat, and rolled us carefully onto my stomach. He managed, without causing undue discomfort, to get me on my knees. I imagined, with the only remaining brain cell to survive the evening's torment, it was some combination of his various vampire powers that made it possible.

And then the real torment began, because from this particular angle he began to fuck into me in earnest. He had a hand on my back, holding my spine at just the right angle for him to fuck me into the couch without breaking my neck. I had walked into this fully expecting to have the best sex of my life, but I hadn't been emotionally been prepared for it to feel this good. 

I'd never had sex with someone magically designed to fuck. So sue me.

I was sure the upstairs neighbors knew his name by now, as much as I was crying out, and I came again--hard. "Tho...mas!" I nearly squeezed the head of his cock off with my asshole, and collapsed as much as he'd let me from this position. "Bones and banana boats, Thomas, you've ruined me for other men."

"I'm not sure I see the problem," he said with a chuckle. He slowly pulled out of me, careful not to overstimulate or injure the tight ring of muscle. "All I've done is what any woman deserves to have done to them--given you the ride of your life. It's not my fault that mortal men can't give you what I can." He slipped off the couch and adjusted my position so I would be comfortable. I put up as much resistance as a properly cooked spaghetti noodle.

"Let me get us cleaned up, and then we'll see what you have left in you, hm? There's so many things we have yet to try."

I nodded weakly. I didn't feel like he'd done any soul-sucking with that orgasm--it was just that damn good. 

I looked around the living room with a niggling sense of shame. We'd fucked in the living room of Harry Dresden, who clearly did not approve of his roommate's bedroom habits. I wondered how Thomas, son of the House Raith, had come to be living with him. 

Harry was gonna be so pissed when he found out. 

Thomas came back with the warm washcloth, as he'd promised, and began to wipe down the poor, abused, well-fucked area of my body. It felt good, but almost too good. I leaned back and let one leg fall limply off the couch. He moved down a bit and put his lips where my legs connected to my hips. 

I made a soft noise, entirely different from the hell-raising of moments before. It was a whimper of pleasure, rather than a strangled scream, and I could feel him smile against my skin. 

"Oh, my soft, pretty girl, how wonderful your sounds are. The best sort of music a man could ask to hear." 

I sighed again. It wasn't fair that he had a god-tier cock and was also so good at bedroom talk. "You're a flatterer, Adonis, you bastard."

"Such kind words. I'll see that you eat them," he said, nibbling a spot on my hip that made me convulse once in pleasure. "Shortly after I eat you, in fact." 

He must have decided I was clean, because he stood up and walked away. When he came back, he didn't have the washcloth anymore, and he scooped me up in his arms. "I am not finished with you. Not by a long shot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, tell me if you liked it. I survive entirely off the validation of strangers.


	4. Chapter 4

He carried me into his bedroom and set me down on the bed carefully. He followed me down to lay on top of me, his weight pressing on me sensuously. "Are you ready for me rock your world again, my dear?"

"Not yet, I still…" I trailed off, somewhat distracted by the way he was sliding my shirt up. How was I still wearing that? He'd long since ripped off half my clothes, why didn't he pull my shirt in half, too?

"Still what?" He slid down my body, only to follow the hem of my shirt up with his lips and tongue.

"Still...sensitive…" I gasped as he pushed my shirt over my breasts, revealing the sports bra I'd worn today underneath. 

"That's too bad." He ripped my bra in half with a flick of his wrists, spilling my breasts into his waiting hands. "So soft and pretty. These, I like very much." He set to his task of properly overstimulating my nipples--pinching, squeezing, and sucking until I was a moaning mess in his hands again.

"Thomas, please…" I writhed beneath him, and he rubbed against me in appreciation.

Thomas left my nipples alone, but it was only to continue his downward path along my skin. Lower and lower he went, nibbling at my hipbones and leaving trails of heat beneath long fingers. He buried his nose in the trimmed hairs between my legs. "Smells like...peaches?" he mused. "I approve."

He gently pushed my legs apart, and for some Godforsaken reason I snapped them shut again, nearly hitting his nose. Of all the times to suddenly become shy.

"Now, sweetheart, I pounded you into that couch not once, but twice. Unless you're trying to tell me you've changed your mind altogether?"

There was something odd in his voice, something I had to work to recognize...worry? He was actually afraid I had decided not to fuck him anymore? "And what if I have?" I said, trying for something that was meant to be confidence and fell very far short of it.

"Then I would be very sad, as I've been looking forward to tasting you since you started to pull your pants down in front of me and I caught my first glimpse of this wonderful ass.” He slid his hands around to grip that wonderful ass, and it felt better than it had any right to. “Tell me, have you changed your mind? Do you wish to stop this pleasure?”

“No, I just...it’s been a while, ok? And I’m not really...like, hot. Like you are.” I turned my face away, looking at one of the walls. The room was decorated much like the living room--carpets and rugs and tapestries and posters that didn’t match, but somehow went well together. I’d expected something more stylish for Thomas’ bedroom.

He sighed deeply, resting his forehead on my pubic bone for a moment, then looked up at me. He dropped the sultry tone to say dryly, “Do I look like the kind of guy who would bring home a woman he didn't find attractive?”

The question honestly surprised me. “No, now that you mention it, you probably don’t. But you’re a vampire, you could get pretty much anybody you wanted.”

“And I did, didn’t I?” He shifted, pulling his elbows in to rest on them. “I could easily have left you in that alleyway, you know. I definitely didn’t have to bring you home, and I definitely didn’t have to sleep with you. I did those things because I wanted to. Wanted you.” Thomas shook his head with a much smaller sigh. “Silly girl, you’re quite pretty, and you aren’t just attracted to me because I’m a vampire. And I’m not just attracted to you because you possess breasts. I really do like a girl who can insult the man holding a gun to her chin, knowing there’s another at her back. You’ve got…” he put his hand under my back and pulled me down the bed, “spine.”

“Let’s just say I’m used to it. That was the third time somebody jumped me this month,” I said with surprising clarity, considering where his hands were. Thomas continued to pull me down the bed until he could kneel on the ground at the foot of it.

He slid his hands out from beneath my ass and over my thighs, then between them. He pushed softly on them, and this time, I didn’t slam them shut again. He inhaled deeply, bringing in the scents there, and exhaled with a smile. His expression was that of a man getting everything he ever wanted. "God, I love women." 

I didn't have a chance to respond before his tongue was stroking the soft, sensitive flesh. Tiny circles, large circles, targeted licks and general attention tormented me. Just when I grew accustomed to his tortures in one spot, he moved or changed his style. In and out, in and out his tongue plunged, and I couldn't stop the shuddering moans that escaped me. I tried to jerk away reflexively, but he pinned me down with unnatural strength. 

"Now, now," he whispered against my core, "you aren't going anywhere until I'm done with you. And I might never be done with you." 

I couldn't think of any reason to object to that, except that 'never' was a long time and he was a vampire, but it didn't seem important enough to say out loud. Especially since the next thing he did was slide a finger inside me. I whimpered, I swear I did.

He petted the thigh he was still holding as if to calm me. He didn't stop licking or sucking on anything he could reach, and I climbed higher and higher along the path to an orgasm I was certain would kill me. 

He began to thrust with his single finger, then added a second. "Moan for me. Cry out for me. I want to hear your pleasure."

I did, God help me. I moaned his name like a damn prayer to whichever gods were still listening.

He added a third finger to the assault on my inner walls, and it stretched me something wonderful, something terrible. He sucked on my clit and worried it in his teeth, and I lost my grasp on reality, on gravity, on everything. As I fell off the cliff of depravity, he pressed his thumb against my asshole and skyrocketed the pleasure that much higher. 

I convulsed again, shaking with the strength of my orgasm but held down by his hand on my lower belly. I cried out his name again, and I could feel him smile against my center. 

"You sound wonderful, and you feel better." As my shivers wound down, he pulled his fingers out slowly. "One more, don't you think? I think you can handle it, sweetheart. So strong, so pretty for me.”

I shook my head, because I’m the dumbest woman in the world. “No...too much…” Of course, as I did so, my hips absolutely betrayed me and jerked towards him the tiniest bit. 

He pulled his hands away with an innocent expression. “Alright, if you say so. Perhaps we’ll just sleep.” He climbed into the bed and pulled me back up to the pillows. He pushed my shirt up again, and I lifted my arms obediently. “But I can’t have this inconvenient fabric in my way.” 

Thomas didn’t push the shirt off my wrists, like I expected--instead, he stopped it halfway up my forearms and twisted it around his hand like a manacle chain, pinning my hands to the headboard. “So what will it be? Sleep, or...things that are a lot more fun?”

Fun sounded good, it sounded really good. My remaining brain cell informed me that it might be really entertaining to get fucked to death by a sex vampire, and I should just let him have his way with me. There was a brief objection from the part of my brain that outputs happy chemicals--it had been working overtime today--but then I nodded at Thomas like it answered his question. 

“Use your words, darling.” He grinned at me, something predatory that had my hips moving on their own again.

“F...fun…” Me woman, like sex. Give sex. It had been too long since I’d been with a man who cared this much about me--Good Time Charlies were nice and all, but a one night stand generally didn’t ‘cut it’ for me. It somehow figured that it was a sex vampire that was the only guy who insisted on getting me off.

He lowered his head to press his lips to the spot below my ear. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Thomas moved to lay on top of me, his weight pressing down in all the right places. “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you now. I just wanted to make sure you were on board with the idea. It’s so much more fun when you are.” He guided himself into me with his free hand, then pulled my leg over his hip. 

He started slow, giving me time to adjust to him as he rocked against me. I couldn’t help but make a little noise as he thrust harder, and he chuckled. “Wrap your legs around me, and don’t move your arms.” He let go of my shirt and braced himself as I obeyed.

And then he _didn’t_ fuck me into the mattress, like I expected. I was prepared for it, even. He used the adjustment in the angle of my hips to fuck me deeper, but he kept his strokes deep but even. It almost couldn’t even be called fucking, it was so sweet and slow. Still, it reached something deep inside that had me gasping long before I was ready to come. I started to move my arms, needing to reach for him, to touch him, to _feel_ him, but he tutted at me. 

“Now, now, I told you not to move your arms. Don’t make me tie you down properly...unless that’s what you want, of course.” There was a question in his voice, and a smug note that made me feel things in places, but his pace didn’t change as he put a hand up to pin mine down again. 

He kept thrusting slowly, smooth and even and unbearably hot. The pleasure didn't build with a blaze, like the others, but it crept unceasingly until I was gasping with each stroke. 

"Need...to feel you...touch you…" I moaned. I struggled weakly against him. Even if he'd been human, he wouldn't have had issues keeping his grip through it.

"You can feel me, right here. Where you need me most. Feel me touch you in your deepest places."

I closed my eyes and my arms went limp. He released them to put his hand between us to start stroking my clit, and the feeling of being washed in warm gold intensified. It built and built, and I felt him speeding up as we gasped each other's names. "Please," I whispered like a prayer to him. "Please, please, please…"

He murdered an affirmative in my ear as he began to lose his rhythm, approaching his own happy ending. "Yes, beautiful. Yes....yes…" 

We crested that golden wave at the same time, and the feeling of him spending himself deep inside spurred my own orgasm farther. 

He whispered sweet nothings in my ear as he lay on top of me, nearly as limp and weak as I was. 

"That was...great…" I said lamely. "Really great."

"Back at you," he said with only a little more strength in his voice. "I've never been so glad to get shot in the shoulder."

  
  


I woke up to the dulcet tones of a male shriek. "What the fuck, Thomas, in my bed?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me on this experience. Stay tuned for Pied Piper 2: Sex Vampire Boogaloo, coming soon to a dashboard near you!


End file.
